


There's Always One in Every Family

by InTheShadows



Series: oh god... there's more of you [18]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background Relationships, Bad Team Dynamics, Crossover, Don't copy to another site, Drama, Gen, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Poor John, Protective Mycroft Holmes, The Other Holmes - Freeform, Timeline What Timeline, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Warning: Loki (Marvel), aka Sherlock/John, did you really expect me to write a story without Johnlock?, mentions of HYDRA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 14:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19427653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheShadows/pseuds/InTheShadows
Summary: When John walks into the flat all he really wants is to relax, watch some crap telly and order some food - not necessarily in that order, but as long as it gets done, he doesn't care. Unfortunately seeing Tony Stark and another stranger - who ends up being the god of mischief - puts all three of those things on hold. Especially since Stark seems to be in trouble. Especially since Stark and Loki can't stop glaring at each other. And that's before both Holmes brothers are added to the mix. It's going to be a long day.





	There's Always One in Every Family

**Author's Note:**

> Did I make up some vague and poorly explained crisis just to get all these people in a room together? Yes. Yes I did. Don't ask me what is actually going on because I haven't a clue.

John likes to think that he has adjusted to living in Baker Street and all the surprises that come with it. Anything from explosions and experiments to Sherlock in a sulk to some  _ very  _ particular clients. By now he’s seen just about everything. But that doesn’t mean that he still can’t be surprised. Like when he walks into the flat to find Tony Stark of all people sitting on the couch, along with a companion. What on Earth?

“Hello,” he greets, managing to not sound accusing as he asks, “can I help you with something?” 

They stop glaring at each other and turn towards him as one. 

“Hi John,” Stark says with a wave as if there is nothing strange about this situation. Only the tightness around his eyes betray his tension. And even then if John wasn’t looking for it then he doubts he would have seen it. 

And how does Tony Stark know his name? Well, alright, it’s not as if it is completely unknown, seeing as it is right there on his blog. Anyone who looks it up knows it. It’s just he never suspected Stark of knowing it. Why he isn’t sure. It’s not as if they haven’t had high profile clients before this. He nods in return. “Are you waiting for Sherlock then?”

“Yes,” Stark agrees, turning up his smile another few notches, “I hope you don’t mind that we made ourselves at home while we wait.” 

“Pardon our intruding like this,” the other man finally says, “but Anthony assured me that it was fine.” He doesn’t introduce himself though. Neither does Stark at that, but he likely doesn’t think he needs to. Still. 

Stark frowns. “No, I said  _ I _ was going to come here. Nowhere in there did I ever invite  _ you _ to come with me.”

“Come now,” he grins sharply, “we are allies now are we not? Hasn’t your team already concluded that - how does it go? Oh yes - that you have gone to the dark side?” 

“And who’s fault is that?” Stark’s voice drops down to a growl as he points a finger, “Who’s fault is it that they believe I’m a traitor now?” 

“Not mine if they turn on you so easily.” He does not even blink at the accusation. His voice is steady and deep, a sharp contrast to Stark’s anger. Cocky even. “If they are as true as you claim then they should have stood by your side. Or granted you the chance to explain before condemning you. But they did not now did they?” 

John can see that this is going to go very bad very quickly. “I’m going to make myself a cuppa. Would either of you care for one?” he interrupts.

Stark ignores him, but the other man does not. And why does he look vaguely familiar? With those clothes he has to be another hero surely, but their conversation - row more like - doesn’t add up to that. “That would be agreeable if you do not mind. I am afraid Americans do not know how to make tea correctly.”

“Here we go,” Stark rolls his eyes aggressively, “The forsaken tea rant. You’re not even from Earth so I don’t know what your problem is.” 

“Midgard is hardly the only Realm that has tea.” 

“Well Americans can’t have messed it up that badly!”

“Hmmm.” 

Well that just about answers that then. Must be a friend of Thor’s somehow - Midgard is definitely a Norse term. John retreats into the kitchen to start the kettle. He’s not a coward by any means, but he also knows when to get out of the way of a firefight. And the way those two are glaring at each other, one is sure to start soon. Whatever is happening, it can’t be anything good. He just hopes it isn’t world ending. That’s the last thing they need to get dragged into. Criminals are one thing - aliens and superheroes and the like are quite another. 

Even as he begins to clean the kitchen he can still hear them bickering at each other. It doesn’t sound like it is going well for either for them. Trying to tune them out doesn’t work nearly as well as he wishes. Snatches of their conversation - still not quite a fight, yet not quite  _ not _ \- can be heard over the rattling of the dishes he is washing. And one rather sharp - 

“You knew what you were getting into when you decided to ally yourself with me.” 

“Yeah well no good deed goes unpunished.” 

Fortunately the kettle begins to whistle, drowning out the response to  _ that _ . Admittedly he lets it go for a few moments longer than necessary just to make sure. Christ just what are they going to be dragged into the middle of this time? He’s almost afraid to ask. Well one good thing is that Sherlock won’t be bored now will he? He’s been a right prat these last few days. Hopefully this is enough to cheer him up. 

Stalling won’t work forever though so when the tea is poured he goes back into the living room. Both men are glaring at each other. John is ignored for the most part, after he hands off the cup of tea. Carefully he takes a seat in his chair to watch. 

“Better your Highness?” Stark sneers. 

“Adequate,” he nods, “How nice of you to remember my title for a change. I was wondering if you had forgotten it in between all of your inane nicknames.” 

“Why Bambi,” Stark flutters his eyes obnoxiously, “aren’t you feeling the love yet? Pumpkin. Sweet pea. Cupcake. You should because you’re my special snowflake.” 

“Stark.” It is a clear warning if John ever heard one. Not that Stark seems to pay it any mind. 

“Yes buttercup?” he asks in the same ridiculous tone. 

John is starting to see why so many people want to kill this man. His mouth alone could drive a person to murder. Or an alien or god or whatever, going by the strength of the glare that is being directed at him. Stark doesn’t even blink. Yeah, John can definitely see it. 

But before there really is a murder in their flat Sherlock walks in. Good. Mrs Hudson would have thrown a fit about all of the blood on the carpet. 

As usual he breezes right in, only taking a moment to glance around, yet still taking in everything. He collapses into his chair without pause, an elegant sprawl. “Tony,” he flashes a smile before frowning again, “we’ve heard already. Mycroft will be here soon,” he rolls his eyes, “so prepare yourself.” 

Stark huffs. “Great,” he mutters. 

And it looks like Sherlock already knows Stark. Great. He loves how that wasn’t mentioned before this. Why explain anything to the lesser minds? It’s not as if he lives here or anything. That does explain why Stark feels so comfortable here though. 

“I do not believe we have met,” the still yet nameless man says pointedly, giving both Stark and Sherlock a look. 

Of course Sherlock just waves him off. “Obvious,” he says. 

John sighs when Stark doesn’t say anything either. Today is really turning out to be one of those days isn’t it. “I’m John Waston and that’s Sherlock Holmes,” he points, “I apologize, he’s like this sometimes.” Or all the time, he doesn’t add. 

“Greetings,” he nods, “And I am Loki of-” he cuts himself off, pauses and then continues with another sharp smile, “Well I do believe none of my options would be especially happy to claim me at this point so - Midgard.” 

Loki. The name repeats itself in his head a couple of times. Loki. The god who tried to take over New York. Sitting on his couch. With Tony Stark. Iron Man. Why not? He mentally throws his arms in the air and gives up. Why not? 

Some of that must have shown on his face because he adds, “I do hope this will not be a problem.” 

“You’re dealing with Mrs Hudson if any blood gets on the carpet,” he says. And that’s all he says. 

Loki looks rather amused at the response. “I do promise that I can clean any blood spilt. Magic is good for something, as they say. My magic may have been scoffed at, but it was commanded liberally. I know how to deal with blood stains.” 

Well alright then. John shrugs and goes back to his tea. Clearly this is just a break in the storm because Mycroft has already been mentioned. Best to fortify himself now while he can. And speak of the devil, just as he finishes in walks the British Government himself. John nods and goes to make more tea grabbing Loki’s empty cup on the way. They are going to need it.

“Anthony,” Mycroft nods as he sits in John’s chair, “And your Highness. This is quite the mess you made isn’t it.” 

John can hear the scowl in Stark’s voice from the kitchen. “It’s not  _ my _ fault.” 

“Indeed not?” Mycroft asks, but then hands him a bag and jar of... something. John can’t quite tell what it is from where he is standing. 

“You do love me after all,” Stark crows, “Hey!” He jerks away from Loki, “No you don’t. These are mine - hands off.” 

Loki looks back mildly, “Really Stark, no need to overreact so much.” 

Stark stands, still careful to keep whatever it is away from him. “Oh no, don’t even try that one. I’m well aware of how bad that sweet tooth of yours is. Back.” He actually hisses and then goes to sit... in Sherlock’s lap. Once again he isn’t going to ask. 

Tea done he walks back in the room and sets the tray on the table before eyeing his options. Mycroft is in his chair, Sherlock and Stark are in the other. He’d join Sherlock without a problem, but he doesn’t want to crowd Stark - for both of their sakes. So he sits on the other end of the couch. 

“I do thank you again,” Loki says as he sips his tea. 

At least he’s polite. John glances over to see Stark right at home in Sherlock’s space. Sherlock doesn’t even blink at it, just raises an eyebrow when he sees him looking. John just shakes his head and pushes down the whisper of jealous trying to get in his head. There’s no need. Sherlock is a tactile person surprisingly, but he has to like you to let you into his space. Obviously Stark fits the bill. 

And now John can also see what Stark was defending - a bag of Oreos along with a jar of peanut butter. As he watches he scoops up a healthy bit with the cookie and then stuffs all of it into his mouth. 

“Such elegance,” Loki murmurs beside him, clearly sharing John’s thoughts on the subject. 

Stark flips him off. 

“Really Anthony must you be so childish?” Mycroft sighs, “Now is not the time, given your situation.” 

“Must you be so obnoxious?” Stark asks in return, “It’s never the time for that.” 

That’s the second reference to some kind of trouble now. John doesn’t give them time to make a third one. “Would anyone like to tell the mere mortal in the room just what is going on?” He crosses his arms and glares at all of them for good measure. 

It’s Loki that ends up answering first. “Stark’s team has turned on him,” he says simply. 

“Because you had to go and-” Stark starts to protest, but is then cut off. 

“Oh yes, please, do blame this entire situation on me. I love nothing better than being the scapegoat of everyone’s faults. Why take responsibility when I am in the general vicinity? Surely I had something to do with it,” Loki spits, hands clenching as he speaks, “Whatever was I thinking.” 

Stark sighs, rubbing his head. “Fine. Look I know it isn’t all your fault-” 

“Oh not  _ all _ my fault, how generous of you. No wonder so many wish to be your ally if you turn on them so quickly.” 

Even John has to contain his wince at that. This feels like something that he shouldn’t be listening to, but it’s too late to leave. He’s not drawing attention to himself now. 

Stark pulls a face and lets out another sigh. “ _ As I was saying _ ,” he continues, “I know there’s other factors involved - ones neither of us could have predicted. I sure as hell didn’t expect to accidentally find HYDRA alive and well, let alone right at the heart of SHIELD. I just thought,” he shakes his head. 

“You simply believed that your team would at least listen to your words first before condemning you,” Loki says, much softer now, “You did not expect to be betrayed by those close to you.” 

“Stupid right?” Stark gives a self deprecating laugh, “It’s not as if this is my first rodeo with this kind of thing.” 

“They are all beneath you.” 

“Yeah Lokes,” he snorts, “somehow that isn’t as comforting as you meant it to be.” 

“Who said I was trying to comfort at all? I was simply stating a fact. Even at your height of idiocy you are still miles above them.” 

John has to bite down the inappropriate giggle at that. That sounds so similar to something Sherlock would say that he can’t help it. It’s almost an exact imitation down to the tone of voice. How is he supposed to keep a straight face at that? Still the explanation doesn’t inspire any confidence in him. He remembers learning about HYDRA in school, along with the rest of World War II. To hear that they are still active - well maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Nazis are still around after all, no matter how much people wished otherwise. Why not super Nazis as well? He assumes SHIELD is the organization that - funds? - runs? - regulates? - the Avengers. He vaguely recognizes the name, but that’s it. 

“And now I’m officially a wanted man,” Stark says cheerfully. You could almost believe it, except it doesn’t reach his eyes. “America’s most wanted, right next to Lo lo here. Seemed like a good time to take a vacation.” 

John frowns though. “Wait, what were you doing with, er,” he pauses, unsure how he wants to word the question. 

“Why was the golden hero teaming up with the villain?” Loki asks for him, mouth smiling, but eyes sharp, “It may be a surprise, but I never had a desire to conquer this world, My hand was forced however so here we are. I do not care for mortals as a whole, but neither do I have anything against them. However you are now entering a much bigger game then you are prepared for. I am fixing that.” 

And having a time of it, judging by that smile. There is just a little too much glee in the edge of it. “Stark - because he is not an idiot - has been helping me,” he finishes with a flourish. 

Right then, that wasn’t as vague as possible or anything. But no one else adds to it so that is what John is stuck with. 

“The warrant for your arrest has already been spread over the world,” Mycroft decides to finally speak up, “A man hunt will be under way soon. While they do not know where you are, I suggest you do not push your luck right now. Any disguise you have is highly recommended.” 

“Gee you mean I can’t go walking down the street in the suit?” Stark rolls his eyes, “Who would have thought? I’m going to need to block this,” he knocks against something in his chest, “If they can trace the tesseract they can trace the arc reactor.” 

“The lab is still the same from the last time you were here,” Sherlock says. 

Lab? Last time? Alright so John knows he isn’t the most observant, but this is ridiculous. 

“Flat C,” Sherlock says, glancing at him, “And you were away that weekend.” 

That makes him feel a bit better at least. Still he didn’t think C was renovated. But if it is - “And you can’t use it for  _ your _ experiments why?” he asks, eyes narrow. To think he could have a kitchen that didn’t look like a chemistry lab. And a refrigerator where he didn’t have to worry about contamination. Not that he isn’t used to that by now and would almost miss it if it were gone, but still. Point. 

Sherlock however just gives him a careless shrug. “It’s not mine.” 

Not his? John is going to strangle the man. Not his indeed. As if he doesn’t regularly help himself to anything that is technically John’s. And it’s only gotten worse since they began dating. Now some things are just  _ theirs _ whatever their original origin was. Another thing that has reluctantly grown on him. 

“There would be too many questions,” Mycroft puts in then, “seeing as how it is an engineer’s lab and not a scientist’s.” 

Too many questions. Really. John is about done with Homeses today. “Tell me, how is that working for you right now?” He smiles sweetly. From the corner of his eye he can see Loki smirking in amusement. 

Mycroft doesn’t bother to answer to that beyond a sigh. “If we may get back to the matter at hand? I do believe there is some urgency to it. Unless you would like to end up in government custody after all?” 

“So dramatic,” Stark says as he eats another cookie. 

John wonders how on earth that could be good. And what American’s obsession with peanut butter is anyways. It’s not that good. 

“Yes,” Mycroft says with exasperation, “ _ I _ am the dramatic one.” 

“Stark? Dramatic?” Loki asks, “Surely you  _ must _ be mistaken.” 

Scratch that, John is about done with all of them today. Truly it is that kind of a day. And sadly crap telly and take out is not part of the plan. Just as he thinks that his stomach gives a loud rumble. The others turn to look at him, but John refused to be embarrassed. “I am ordering food,” he says, standing up and reaching for his phone, “any preferences tell me now because otherwise I’m getting what I want.” At least he can have one of those things. 

“Not hungry,” Sherlock says, but John ignores him. By now he knows what to get so that Sherlock will at least eat something, if not much of it. 

“I’m not either,” Stark calls, then “Hey!” 

John turns to see Loki grinning triumphantly as he now holds the almost empty bag of Oreos in his hand. Challengingly, without a blink of an eye, he eats one while he stares Stark down. “Delicious truly,” he says when he swallows. 

Stark looks moments away from mutiny. 

John ignores them, going into their bedroom to block out the noise. This is going to be a long day. 


End file.
